Case File:Columbus
by LauraCynthia
Summary: Tracer Bullet is back, and he has a history research assignment. Objective: Who was Christopher Columbus?
1. The Assignment

It's a dark day today. The kind of day when the crime rate is higher than the birth rate. My name, if you're illiterate, is Tracer Bullet. If you're not, go back outside and read my sign. On a day like today, I can find solace with my two buddies. One keeps me warm. He's a smooth talker, and all his remarks go down easy with me. The other rips the warmth out of anything alive. He speaks with a staccato rhythm, sharp and to the point. He's usually monosyllabic, but can say more when he has to. He knows what he wants. This dame comes in. It's the same one who brings me all my cases. I don't know why I take them so often. Most of the time she doesn't pay me very well; usually it's tens, twenties, and thirties. Somehow I sense she isn't too pleased with my work, because it's not what she was looking for. In this job there are many disappointments. I've tried to tell her that before, but it didn't wash too well with her, so since then I've learned to keep my mouth shut and leave the open part to my eyes. Well, anyway, she stands there, casting a long shadow on my desk, and says to me, "I've got a project for you. It'll take research." Research. I like that. So she wants me to open a cold case. I tell her it won't be easy, and it'll cost her heavily. She says I'll have to take what I can get. She may have a point. I sit back and flick the soot out of my cigar, and tell her I'll take the job, only she has to tell me what it is. I can't figure out everything on my own. "I want you to report back to me on the answer to this question; who was Christopher Columbus?" With those words, I got a little wary of her mental capacity. Either he didn't know who he was or she didn't. This Christopher must be an amnesiac or something. I had an idea of where to go to find him. But it would take some walking. I made my way over to an old house. Many think that people look like their pets. The tenant of this house looked much like it did; unkempt, ugly, frightening, and disheveled. Then again, she was a dog, too, so I suppose the former is correct as well. The name? Derkins. Another female. Not as important as the other woman, but still, a source of ready information. When she was willing, that was. Occasionally, you could get her to squeal, but it involved a lot of work, which I don't feel comfortable talking about. And the thing was, she was usually right. I don't know why; I guessed she had help. I refuse to believe she just happens to be bright. I knocked on the door. After two minutes, she opened. I casually asked her if I might come in. She said no, I could ask her out here. I relented and asked her, point-blank, if she knew anything a bout this Columbus dude. 


	2. Secrets, Lies, and the Answer

She eyed me with years of contempt, none of which she made any secret of. I  
watched her bring up the rage that she was feeling now. I knew what the  
answer would be. This dame was way too predictable.  
"No! I don't know anything! Take a hike, loser!" She slammed the door in  
my face. Typical. It seems the crooks always get to the witnesses before  
you do. Whoever had taken care of her must have a long whip and short  
patience. I figured it had to be somebody she called "Mom". The Mom I knew  
myself was exactly that way; always telling me I'd better do my own  
research if I want to learn anything. Even though I bribed her, she still  
wouldn't give. She says she's above that sort of thing.  
I walked down the street back to my office. It( the street) was littered  
with trash, both human and paper. Funny how the people you think belong  
there are always in authority. Take the dame who gave me the case. She had  
a face that belonged on a missing persons poster, the kind you didn't want  
to find.  
I thought some more about this case. Columbus. Quite a name. Yet, there was  
something bugging me at the back of my mind. I wasn't quite sure what it  
was, but I had a feeling it could clinch the verdict on this case.  
Colum-bus. Glum. Bust.  
That's it! I knew exactly who I was looking for! A depressed failure. Then  
another thought hit my mind; this was all a conspiracy to keep me busy  
while something else went on! Something evil!  
I made my way to the dame's office and snuck over to her desk. (Lucky she  
told me about the keys under her doormat.) I opened the drawers and started  
looking.  
Then, I found it!  
A whole drawer full of government secrets, disguised as a simple  
questionnaire! She was going to spill these! I almost missed a list on the  
desktop. Picking it up, I realized, with horror, that she was planning to  
send them to all of my worst enemies! I found my name on the list, too.  
Why, I don't know. It didn't matter anyhow; I had the documents now, and  
nobody else was ever going to see them again.  
I had just started out the front door, when I heard the dame's footsteps  
echo down the hallway. Quickly, I turned around and raced out the fire  
escape. I was free!  
Miss Wormwood sat down in her chair at her desk. "I have some bad news,  
children. Someone has stolen the questions and answers for Friday's test.  
Whomever took it, please return it to me after school and you won't get  
into trouble. If you don't, I'm afraid I'll have to make a new one. Now,  
let's get on with science."  
Calvin snickered in his head.  
I had them, and she didn't even know it was me. All she knew was, she  
couldn't find them. Yes, I replaced the key, if you're wondering. I'm not  
that stupid. Now that I had confiscated the papers, there was only one more  
thing to do; find the miserable man whom I was looking for. Easy.  
"You want to interview me? I 'm honored," Calvin's dad said. " Where should  
we start? My childhood?"  
"That'll do, I guess." Calvin carried a stack of paper in his arms and a  
stubby pencil. He began writing as his dad talked in a dull monotone. 


End file.
